Me and You, Plus Malcolm, Makes Three
by mochachill
Summary: Tucker/Sato/Reed love triangle. **Sequel to New Terrain** Hoshi struggles to reconcile her feelings for Trip and Malcolm—while dealing with her own inner demons. Please R&R!! ~COMPLETE~
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

**You and Me, plus Malcolm, Makes Three **

"You busy, Malcolm?"

Malcolm Reed looked up in confusion. He had been having dinner in the mess hall, working on some weapons schematics. Running the figures over and over in his head, he hadn't noticed the approach of Trip Tucker. He stared at Trip blankly. Finally, his eyes cleared as he pulled himself out of the realm of phase cannons, and he smiled in recognition.

"No, sir. Please have a seat." Malcolm nodded at Trip, glad to see him up and about again. A recent run-in with a criminal faction had left Trip a little worse for the wear—they had almost lost him. _'Not that I fared much better'_, the armory officer reflected, annoyed by his own weakness.

"You know, that food will eventually kill you, Commander." He nodded towards Trip's fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

Trip chuckled. "I'd worry 'bout starvation if I were you." Malcolm looked down at his salad and picked up his fork, digging in. "Besides, didn't Phlox say you needed to get some protein in you?" Malcolm shrugged noncommittally and continued eating, preferring to not answer.

Trip looked up past Malcolm and smiled. Turning around in his seat to see what had pleased the Commander, Malcolm saw Hoshi Sato headed in their direction. She sat down next to Trip, also smiling. 

Malcolm watched the pair, his eyes going from one to the other. Seemingly unaware of Malcolm's presence, the couple sat gazing at each other in silence for at least a full minute_. 'Quite an achievement for the Commander'_, Malcolm thought irritably. _'Honestly, look at them, smirking at each other like a couple of dafties.'_

Sighing loudly, Malcolm cleared his throat. "Hello, Ensign." Hoshi looked up slowly. She seemed surprised to see him.

"Hello, Lieutenant." Malcolm watched her face grow red and turned his attention back to his plate. He had somehow lost his appetite.

"Well, I believe I will retire for the evening," he said, rising from his chair.

Trip, finally remembering Malcolm, frowned and said, "Ya didn't even finish your rabbit food."

Malcolm laughed. "I wasn't very hungry anyway." Before he left, he added, "Give my regards to your arteries, Commander. Good night, Ensign." He left the mess hall, returning to his quarters. 

Hoshi watched him go. She felt a hand on her wrist and smiled, looking back at Trip. 

"I didn't think you were gettin' off til later." He grasped her hand, linking his fingers with hers. She looked at their combined hands, still surprised by their relationship. It was very new and she had not grown completely accustomed to it. His forefinger sneaking up her sleeve distracted her thoughts. He was brushing it along the skin there, talking in a low voice laced with his southern drawl. "Not that I'm upset that you're here." He slowly raised his head, his gaze stopping on her lips.

Hoshi was having trouble concentrating. Her heart began to pound, echoing in her ears. "I wasn't expecting to either but the Captain said that I could leave."

Trip suddenly turned back to his food, leaving Hoshi surprised and a little bewildered. Looking back at her face, Trip grinned mischievously. "Sorry Hosh. Sometimes a man needs to store up energy. Ya never know what ya might need it for." He winked. Hoshi's face flamed and she quickly picked up her drink to hide behind it. He laughed and finally she chuckled in response. "You're a pain, Trip."

"Darlin, you don't know the half of it."

**

Hoshi tossed and turned in her bunk. Sweat stood out on her brow, and she moaned in her sleep. 

_She stood on the bridge of the enterprise with sound and lights from explosions screaming around her. People were running from it as fast as the lift could open. She grabbed her console as they were hit by another blast._

_Archer was yelling, "All hands abandon ship!"_

_A light flashed and Viren, the leader of the faction that threatened them all, appeared on the bridge. Hoshi screamed and ran behind the console, holding on as fire licked at her face._

_Suddenly she felt warm arms around her and a reassuring voice in her ear. "Shh, Hoshi. They'll never find us if we hide in here."_

_She turned and Malcolm led her down a shoot she had never noticed before. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward it, making her go through first. She fell for a long time, finally hitting the bottom. When she stood up, she noticed the room was cool and dark. It seemed like a cavern of some sort. She whispered, "Malcolm, where are you?"_

_Getting no answer she made her way toward a door that had a light shining behind it. She reached over, opening the door, and found Trip sitting inside at a table. _

_"Trip, what are you doing?  We need to hide from Viren."_

_Trip smiled and said, "Hosh, we'll be fine. He isn't here now."_

_He stood up and walked over, wrapping his arms around her. She hugged him back, feeling a little better. Until she noticed the wet sticky feeling on her arms. She pulled back, looking at the blood on her hands, and reached for Trip as he fell. She started to scream…_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

**Chapter 2**

Malcolm couldn't sleep. After lying awake for hours, he finally sat up. His tense muscles needed release. Rolling out of bed he went to the closet, picking out a pair of gray sweats and a blue Starfleet sweatshirt.

Throwing them on, he headed toward the exercise room. He hoped that he would be alone; he wanted to clear his thoughts. As he walked down the corridor, he heard a scream come out of Hoshi's room.

"Hoshi!" He ran toward the door. Using his security override commands he ran into the room, ready for battle. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized she was in bed dreaming. She was thrashing against her pillow. Her pallid face was covered in sweat. Her hair was wrapped around her neck, seeming to add to her discomfort. He could see she was in her skivvies, since most of the bedclothes were at her feet.

He was torn between waking her and leaving her since it was only a dream. He turned his back to the bed but stopped. "Bloody hell," he muttered and walked back to her side.

He reached down shaking her gently. "Hoshi."

She gasped and sat up in bed. She sucked in her breath again and her eyes grew wide. "Malcolm?" she asked. Her voice was still rough from sleep. "What are you doing in my quarters?" She pulled the blankets up close around her chin and backed up against the wall.

"I'm sorry, Ensign, but I heard a scream, obviously in your sleep. I'm only here because I feared for your safety. I apologize for waking you." At this he stood up and started to leave.

"Malcolm wait," she said.

Again he stopped and turned back toward the bed.

Hoshi reached over and turned on the light. Her robe was sitting on a chair near the bed. She reached out, pulling it on and standing up.

"Ensign, I am sorry if I frightened you."

"Yes sir, you did. But I would rather be awake than part of that dream again. Do you want some tea or something?  There's no way I'm going back to sleep tonight."

Malcolm nodded and said, "Tea would be fine."

He sat down on the chair watching her walk about making the tea. When she was finished she handed him a steaming mug. She sat down on the bed and stared at her cup.

"How is your arm?" he asked, nodding toward her shoulder.

She smiled and said, "Much better, thank you for asking."

He sipped at his tea and looked around her room.

After a few minutes of silence, during which he grew increasingly uncomfortable, she spoke. "Sir, is there some way to bump up my self-defense training?"

Malcolm looked at her in surprise. She stared into her cup, her brow puckered into a frown. He watched her for a moment and nodded.

"I am sure something can be worked out."

She nodded and he rose. "Thank you for the tea, Ensign. I really should be going."

She followed him to her door. When they reached it, he turned and faced her. He was standing so close he could smell sleep and shampoo on her. 

"All of us have demons that chase us in the night hours, Hoshi. But you need to remember that the chase only lasts as long as _you_ let it."

He walked out the door, leaving Hoshi staring after him, wondering what demons had Malcolm Reed roaming the corridors at 1 a.m.

**

The next morning, Hoshi dropped by the mess hall for breakfast before her shift. She had been up for hours already, ever since she woke to find Malcolm leaning over her. Truth was, she had spent the last hours fretting.

She hadn't slept well since they had returned from the disastrous mission to Obeexus. The first night back, Phlox had sedated her, and she slept soundly in Sickbay, warm in Trip's arms. But Trip had been held in Sickbay much longer than she, due to his extensive injuries. And a funny shyness had settled over them even after he was released. They seemed to be in a holding pattern now, both eager to resume their recent closeness, but neither of them sure of the next step.

So Hoshi had faced her nights alone over the past few weeks. Her sleep became restless, filled with confusing images she couldn't remember in the morning. Last night was the first time she was able to recall the dreams upon waking.

After her initial surprise, Malcolm's presence had comforted her. His face, composed as always, drove the dark images from the corners of her mind, at least until he left. Malcolm always had that effect on her, she mused; she felt safe when he was near. With Trip, she felt... _'But why am I comparing them?'_

That thought made her frown while she surveyed her breakfast options.

She wasn't really hungry, but she was desperate for energy, so she selected tea and a banana. Grabbing the food, she headed for the bridge, thinking to eat on her way. Before she got halfway across the room, the mess hall doors slid open to reveal Trip. He was speaking to a fellow engineer, laughing, and didn't notice her immediately. Despite her strange experience with Malcolm the night before, her entire body responded to the sight of Trip. His laughter, his smile, made her cheeks darken with heat. He was so light-hearted—the opposite of Malcolm's usual demeanor. _'Again with the comparison?'_

She was tempted to avoid Trip while she worked out the meaning of these thoughts. Even as that idea crossed her mind, Trip's glance met hers across the small room. The warmth in his eyes shifted immediately to a smolder, the intense blue gaze changing from friendly to an intimate welcome. His smile grew softer. Before she realized it, they were standing inches apart, her face reflecting his look of genuine delight.

"Mornin'," Trip said quietly.

"Good morning," she replied. She might have been embarrassed by the breathless quality of her voice, if she had noticed it. Instead, she was focusing on his eyes, his mouth. She shook her head, looked down. "Just headed for the bridge." She gestured toward the door with the hand holding the banana.

"Ok." Trip nodded, his gaze holding hers as she moved around him. "Listen, I can't make dinner tonight, but how 'bout t'morrow?"

She nodded in response, still smiling, and left the mess hall. Almost as soon as she cleared the door, it swished again and Trip's voice caught her. 

"Hosh."

She turned expectantly. He was so close that she took a startled step backwards, bumping into the corridor wall across from the doors.

Trip glanced quickly up and down the corridor, confirming that they were alone. "I just wanted to tell you I'm lookin' forward to tomorrow night. I'm feelin' like my old self." His eyes glowed, but Hoshi didn't need to hear the note in his voice to get his meaning. 

They had postponed the physical side of their relationship over the past weeks while Trip recuperated. Doctor's orders, Trip had told her awkwardly. He didn't detail the conversation, but she knew both men well enough to know how it had gone—practical frankness on Phlox's part and flustered embarrassment on Trip's. Imagining that talk had given her a few private laughs—not to mention a little embarrassment on her own behalf.

Now, her face flushed again, and she licked her lips lightly. Trip's eyes followed the tip of her tongue as it darted in and out. Then his eyes moved back to hers. He wasn't smiling, but his gaze was warm, happy. Not waiting for her to speak, he leaned into her, bringing lips and then tongues together. He kissed her carefully, offering his silent promise for later. He tasted like peppermint—peppermint and Trip. His hands slid up her back, pressing under her shoulder blades.

Her own hands moved almost involuntarily up Trip's arms to his neck, one of them settling in his silky hair. She still held the tea, with its lid, but the banana now lay in the corridor floor. The spicy scent of his aftershave surrounded her. Their breath mingled—for a moment she wasn't sure where she ended and he began. And she didn't care. She could have stayed in that corridor forever, her shift forgotten. Then he pulled back, sighed, and looked around again.

"Tomorrow night, Ensign Sato?"

"Definitely, Commander Tucker," she murmured in agreement, opening her eyes slowly. She ran her tongue over her lips again and smiled.

Trip grinned, gave her a quick kiss, and sauntered back into the mess hall. As the doors closed, she heard him whistling and she chuckled. Last night was all but forgotten as she picked up the banana and headed for her shift.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 3 

Captain Jon Archer stepped onto his bridge from the lift. As usual, his crew was hard at work, bent over their stations. He moved toward his chair, when a head popping up beside Hoshi stopped him. Trip smiled up at Hoshi, oblivious to the rest of the crew. As he spoke to her softly, Hoshi smiled back at him, leaning in close to hear what he had to say. Jon squared his shoulders. 

"Commander Tucker!"

At his voice, Trip and Hoshi jumped. All eyes on the bridge swung to the Captain, with the exception of Malcolm. His gaze was locked on his station.

"Yes, Cap'n?" Trip said. He seemed to remember where he was and scrambled to his feet.

"I just stopped by Engineering. I had a matter I wanted to discuss with you; I assumed you would be at your station now that Dr. Phlox has cleared you for duty."

"Yes, Cap'n. Ensign Sato reported a problem with the translator; I just ran up to do a little maintenance."

"I see. Well, if you can spare a moment,"—Trip winced at the sarcasm—"I would like to discuss that matter now."

"Of course, sir." Trip hurried around Hoshi's station and followed Jon into the Captain's ready room. Jon sat and gestured to a chair across from his; Trip sank into it, a wary look on his face. The Captain's next words relieved some of his tension.

"First," Jon said gently. "I just wanted to ask, as your friend, how you're doing." 

Trip grinned. "Just dandy, Jon. Happy to be back at work—all that layin' around was about to do me in for real." 

Jon flinched at the reminder of his friend's brush with death, then smiled. "I thought you might say that. It actually brings me to my point." Trip looked at him with interest. "I read over your report. That was quite an ordeal you and Hoshi went through." Jon stood, suddenly feeling the need to move. The thought of his crew in danger, that he himself had placed them in that danger, riled him. Knowing that it was all in the line of duty only fueled his determination to protect his people.

"Trip, I sent you into a situation that you were unprepared for." Eyes on the floor as he paced, Jon held up a hand. Trip closed his mouth, cutting off his protest before it started. "When we began this mission, we anticipated dangerous situations. But I don't think anyone was prepared for the nature of those situations. Many of our crew lack the training that will be necessary to handle themselves in face to face confrontation."

"Jon, everyone in Starfleet completes self-defense training."

"I know. But most Starfleet cadets choose their specialties fairly early. And depending on their area, self-defense often isn't emphasized. Including engineering," he added.

"I simply want my people to be as prepared as possible. So I've asked Malcolm to put together a training program—weapons use, hand-to-hand combat, that sort of thing. For now, he'll work individually with the crew who are most likely to go on away missions, including you, Hoshi, Travis, and myself. T'Pol can handle herself, of course." He and Trip exchanged a wry look at that. "Meanwhile, he and his people will develop a larger program for the rest of the crew."

Trip looked at his friend. He knew when Jon's mind was set. _'Besides, spendin' time playin' with Malcolm's latest toys could be fun.'_

"Ok. When's all this start?" 

"I've already discussed it with Malcolm; see him to set your schedule."

"Will do." Trip stood. "That all?"

"Yes. No." Jon said, causing Trip to turn back to him. "What exactly is wrong with Ensign Sato's console?"

As he expected, his friend looked affronted. "Just a short. Why?"

"Is it really necessary for you, specifically, to leave Engineering to work on it?"

"Last time I checked, I am an engineer. And I didn't realize I was under confinement." Trip was really starting to get huffy now.

"_Chief Engineer, Commander," Jon reminded him. "Any of your people could have handled that work." Abruptly, Jon changed tactics. "Trip, I don't have a problem with your…relationship with Hoshi. However," he continued as Trip relaxed, "I do think you need to practice some discretion. You are third in command, and becoming involved with an Ensign could be sticky. Maybe not for you, but almost certainly for her." Trip's face was stormy, but Jon met his eye. After a moment of silence, Trip sighed._

"Understood, sir. I'll be the very embodiment of discretion from this point on," he drawled, hand over his heart.

Jon smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's all I ask." Jon sat, focusing his attention on the paperwork he still had to dig through. He hated paperwork. With a sigh, he said, "That's all, Trip. Send in Travis on your way back to Engineering—I want to speak to him next."

"Want me to send in Hoshi, too?"

"Nope, not necessary. Apparently she's one step ahead of me. Malcolm says she's already approached him about private lessons."

Jon was scanning the form in front of him as he spoke. The sudden, dead silence in the room caused him to glance up. Trip was staring at him as if he had started speaking in Vulcan out of the blue. "Trip?"

"Private lessons?"

"Yes, Trip," Jon said slowly, drawing out each word for emphasis. "The lessons that you and I just discussed." He watched the Commander curiously.

Trip snapped back from wherever he had been. "I'll send in Travis."

"Thank you," Jon said to his back, as he disappeared through the doors. 

**

"Shit!" Hoshi swore when Malcolm swept her legs out from under her again. 

"Ensign, you have to pay attention. You're leaving yourself open again and again, letting in distractions." Malcolm reached down his hand to help her up. 

She stood and walked off the mat. Picking up her towel, she wiped the sweat off of her forehead and leaned back against the wall. 

Malcolm watched Hoshi pant and glare at the mat. 

"We can stop for today. We'll pick up from here next time." He walked over, grabbing his own towel. 

"Sir, I'd like to continue. My time isn't completely up yet and I need the practice."

"I'll decide what you need in self defense, Ensign. And for today we're done." He bent down to pick up his water and was stopped by Hoshi blocking his path.

"Malcolm, please. I can do this." She looked at him hopefully. 

He stared down at her, momentarily fascinated by the little beads of sweat gathered on her chest. Heat emanated from her body, enhancing her scent—sweat, but also something else—sandalwood? Her breath was calming now and he had an absurd wish to reach out and touch her. Squelching it, he cleared his throat and nodded toward the mat.

"Alright, one more time." 

They walked to the mat, watching each other out of the corners of their eyes. They began circling each other, waiting to see who would make the first move. Stepping forward Malcolm reached for Hoshi, only to have her quickly turn the tables. In the same sweeping move he had used on her only moments before, she swung her leg under his knocking him off his feet. 

Falling to the ground, he used his upper arms to bring her down with him. They hit the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sweat poured into Hoshi's eyes. She called on everything Malcolm and Starfleet had ever taught her. After struggling for several minutes, Malcolm finally pinned her.

Panting heavily, Malcolm leaned over Hoshi watching her. She stared back defiantly, obviously angry at losing. He watched her eyes glare back at him.

Hoshi was fuming that she had lost again. She looked back at Malcolm, never breaking his gaze. She licked her dry lips and watched his gaze shift to them. She felt her pulse pick up, realizing how close they were and how they were positioned. Suddenly nervous, she broke the gaze and sat up, pushing him away. Standing, she walked back to her towel and turned to Malcolm.

"That was much better, Ensign." Malcolm said rising up and joining her. "Far from perfect but much improved." He watched her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. 

"Did you end up getting much sleep last night?" he asked.

Ignoring his question, Hoshi said, "If we're finished, Lieutenant, I have still have some work to do tonight." She waited impatiently for his approval.

"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow on the bridge."

The only response was the whisper of the door behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 4 

"Commander!" After Malcolm's third attempt, Tucker finally heard his shouting and turned. The loud humming in the Jeffries tube made it difficult to hear what the armory officer was trying to say. Reluctantly, he moved back to the end of the tube and climbed out to face Malcolm.

"Whatcha need, Lieutenant?" Malcolm was surprised by the impatience in Trip's voice. Frankly, his own patience was thin these days, and he pushed back an answering feeling of annoyance. It had taken nearly an hour to track down the Commander—he was an armory officer, not a schoolteacher who needed to remind his students to do their homework.

"I'm devising a schedule for the new training program." Trip's face remained impassive. "The Captain did discuss it with you yesterday?" 

Trip nodded.

"Good. You're the only trainee that hasn't yet scheduled your sessions with me. Also, we need to discuss your previous training so that I can prepare a suitable program." Malcolm punched a key on his data pad. "The duty roster says that you're free now?" He looked quizzically from Trip to the tube and back again. "If that's true, why not get started?"

"Well, I got a few more things I wanted to get done here…"

Malcolm took note of Trip's body language—in contrast to his usual direct style, he stood with his body turned away, not even looking at the Lieutenant. Malcolm asked curiously, "Commander, is there some reason you don't want to complete this training? A problem that I'm not aware of?"

Trip's gaze swung back to him. He stared at Malcolm for a moment, then sighed, looking a little sheepish. "Nah, Malcolm, there's no problem. I guess this is as good a time as any. I could use a good workout right now, anyway."

"Excellent." Malcolm grinned mischievously. "I'll take it easy on you. You'll no doubt need it after all the coddling you've received lately. "

Trip's eyes lit with interest at the challenge and he grinned back. "Oh, I wouldn't worry 'bout that. 'Course, you were lookin' a little feeble after our Obeexus trip. I promise not to be too hard on ya." He gestured for Malcolm to lead the way. "On the way, I'll tell ya 'bout the time I single-handedly thrashed three other cadets…future Armory officers, I believe. Ya see, I was mindin' my own business at this bar…"

**

Thwack. Trip found himself on his back on the training mat. Again.

"Not bad, Commander." Malcolm offered a hand and yanked Tucker to his feet. They moved back into stance, facing one another. Sweat soaked the shorts and undershirts of both men.

In spite of himself, Trip grinned. Nobody could do smug like the English. And he was having fun, regardless of his sore backside. "You can skip the pep talk, English." He lunged suddenly. A few quick blows, and Malcolm was on his back, Trip's knee planted in his chest. "I might be a little rusty now, but a few of these sessions and you'll be comin' to me for pointers."

His weight was resting on his other leg, and Malcolm took the opportunity to pull it out from under him with his hand, unseating Trip from his chest. The armory officer bounced back to his feet.

"I appreciate your confidence in my abilities as a trainer, Commander, but I think you're falling victim to that persistent optimism again. I'm good, but I'm not that good." His eyes twinkled over his broad smile. 

Trip, already back on his feet, snorted. "I'm gonna make you eat those words. But before I kill you, I'll just give ya a minute to set your affairs in order." Malcolm rolled his eyes at that reference to their experience on Shuttlepod One. Trip walked to the edge of the mat, grabbing a towel and water bottle. He dropped onto the mat. Wiping at the sweat streaming from his face and shoulders, he drank deeply.

Taking his cue, Malcolm sat and reached for his own water. He looked at Trip thoughtfully as he drank. 

"Trip," he said hesitantly. Trip looked up at him, still rubbing his neck with the towel. "I was wondering…I'm aware of your new…relationship…with Ensign Sato." Trip sat up a little straighter. "Have you noticed…is she all right?" 

"Whadda ya mean?"

"We had her first session last night, and something seemed off about her." At the mention of Hoshi's lesson, Trip stood suddenly, forcing Malcolm to look up at him as he continued. "She looked pale to me; there are circles around her eyes."

"Well, o' course she's pale. Look what she just went through. But Hoshi's strong; she's ok." Trip didn't want to think about any other possibilities. 

Malcolm got to his feet. "It's just…"

"Just what, Lieutenant?" Trip cut him off. "I'm tellin' you she's fine."

Malcolm was having a difficult time keeping his frustration reigned in. _'Daft git. Can't he ever shut his bleeding mouth for two seconds and listen?' _He looked at Trip coolly. "Well, if you don't mind my saying so, _sir_, I believe I might be in a better position to recognize a problem in Ensign Sato."

Trip looked taken aback, then his eyes narrowed. "Really? An' what makes you such an expert?"

"I've worked closely with her on many occasions. Your relationship with her is fairly new, and I daresay it might be clouding your judgment."

"Cloudin' my judgment?" Their faces were now inches apart; they were nearly shouting.

"You're being completely obtuse!" Trip's mouth dropped open in outrage. "I'm concerned for the Ensign's welfare! Given her appearance, and her problems sleeping…"

The Commander's mouth snapped shut again. "Problems sleepin'?" he ground through clenched teeth.

"Yes, due to the nightmares."

"Nightmares? How do you know Hoshi's havin' nightmares?" Trip demanded.

"When I was in her room the other night…" Malcolm didn't get to finish the sentence; Trip's fist snapped his head back so hard that he bit down on his own tongue. With the pain came anger; he responded to the attack with two hard jabs—one to Trip's midsection and one to his face. 

Doubled over, Trip bellowed and plowed into Malcolm. The inertia drove them into the wall behind Malcolm; they bounced back and landed on the mat, driving punches as they fell. They were so intent on pounding the hell out of each other that they didn't hear Travis until he pulled Malcolm back by his shirt and wedged himself between them.

"Commander! Lieutenant!" He looked back and forth between the two men. Out of breath, the two officers exchanged angry looks. "What's going on?" Travis demanded. 

Malcolm stepped back, wrenching his shirt from Travis' grip. "Nothing, Ensign," he said tightly. "Our training session got a little out of hand, that's all. Actually, Commander, our session has run long—Ensign Mayweather is here for his training. I suggest we call it a day." 

Trip forced himself to relax. "Agreed." He bent down to grab his water and towel. Glancing at Travis, he nodded. "Ensign." He stalked out of the room without looking back.

"That was a training session?" Travis asked Malcolm incredulously.

"I don't care to repeat myself, Ensign," Malcolm snapped. "Let's get started. We'll begin with basic moves to disarm an assailant." He walked briskly towards the weapons cabinet.

Travis looked at Malcolm's back, ramrod straight. He had been looking forward to these sessions, eager to learn as always. Now he glanced wistfully at the door. "I might be in more trouble than I thought," he muttered to himself.

*****

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 5 

Trip arrived for his date with Hoshi and found her waiting for him in the corridor. Just after his altercation with Malcolm, she'd contacted him over the com and asked him to see the movie with her before dinner. It was apparently one of her favorites—'The African Queen' with Humphrey Bogart. And Trip loved a good old movie, so they'd agreed to meet there. 

Because she hadn't spotted him yet, he took the opportunity to study her. Malcolm might be an ass, but what he'd said left Trip worried, once he'd cooled down. 

He thought, '_Damn. Trip, you are a lucky, lucky man.'_ A simple red shirt and jeans accented her slim figure—but now he wondered if she hadn't lost some weight. He wiped his palms on his own jeans and blue T-shirt. She turned to him then, her dark hair swinging free behind her.

"Wow." She smiled at the appreciation in Trip's voice, but shock replaced the smile as he got closer. Trip kissed her quickly before she could speak. 

"Mmm." He licked his lips, smiling disarmingly. "Cherry lip gloss?" 

"Raspberry," she said absently. "What happened to your face?" A large bruise ran along his jaw, along with a shallow cut over his eye. 

"Ah, it's nothin'." He looked at her so intently that she blushed. "You're beautiful."

His admiration flustered her momentarily. She raised a nervous hand to her hair and smiled, pleased. "Thank you," she murmured. Several crewmembers passed them on the way into the movie room and Trip stepped back. "Should we go in?" she suggested.

She started to turn, but Trip caught her arm. "Uh, hold on. We got a couple a minutes; I was thinkin' we could walk? Maybe talk?" 

"Oh. Ok." She seemed surprised, but willing. Trip slipped her hand into his and they started to walk. "Tell me 'bout your day," he said. "Ensign Lopez get that translator workin' again?"

She laughed, shook her head, and launched into a story about Lopez getting his hand caught inside her console. Trip listened, enjoying the lilt of her voice, and studying her face whenever she wasn't looking.

He could see the purple crescents framing her eyes, although she had made a superb effort to hide them with makeup. Lipstick and blush couldn't make up for the unnatural pallor of her skin either. The circles around her eyes looked like bruises on her translucent skin. Her hand in his felt cool, fragile.

Trip felt a quick stab of apprehension and he blurted, "Hoshi."

She broke off in the middle of a sentence, and looked up at him. Her eyes seemed enormous in her pale face.

"Are you ok, darlin'?" 

She looked away. "Fine. What do you mean?" The thread of irritation was subtle; he almost missed it.

"You just…ya look tired. You gettin' enough rest?"

"I'm fine," she said, emphasizing the 'fine.' "But now that we're on the subject of health, what did happen to your face?"

"Makes me look kinda dashin', huh?" When she didn't smile, he relented. "Malcolm and I did some trainin' today is all."

"Malcolm did this to you? You're barely healed as it is!" She dropped his hand. Trip actually took a step back from the sudden fury in her face. 

"Whoa, Hosh. I said I'm fine." He gingerly reached for her hand. "Let's just go back to the movie, ok?"

"I just…I can't believe either of you could be so stupid!" 

That stopped Trip in his tracks. "Stupid?" he repeated, as if he hadn't quite heard her right.

"Yes! Both of you nearly died a few weeks ago, and you use your training as an excuse to beat each other senseless," Hoshi retorted. "Sounds pretty stupid!"

Trip realized he was leaning back, dumbfounded by her sudden verbal attack. His temper flared. "Now just hold on a second! I…" Two curious crewmen walked by, staring openly, and Trip broke off. Furious, he held up a finger and grabbed Hoshi's arm, dragging her down the hall. His quarters were close; she waited stiffly by his side as he entered his code, and then stomped past him into the room. 

The door shut after them, and she whirled around to face him. He had calmed down a little—just a little—during the brief walk. "I don't know what's goin' on, but I don't appreciate bein' called 'stupid.' You got a lotta nerve, woman, especially after…" he stopped abruptly, staring into her face. Sweat stood out on her brow, and she was breathing hard, much harder than he was.

"After what?" she demanded, bringing him back to the argument.

"Well, I'd just like to know what Malcolm Reed was doin' in your quarters the other night!" Trip said triumphantly—he knew he'd won the argument now. 

"WHAT?!" A minute ago, he would have said Hoshi couldn't get any angrier. He would have lost that bet.

"I can't believe you! You think…" Hoshi was so mad she could barely talk. "That I…behind your back? Of all of the…Aaaah!" She screamed, causing Trip to jump, startled. 

Now he was really getting mad. "Well, what the hell was I spose ta think? Ya never mentioned it to me! Ya never even told me you were havin' nightmares—I had ta hear it from that British jackass."

Contrition passed over her face. But only briefly, as she processed what he'd said. "Wait a minute. Is that what this," she gestured to his face, "was all about?"

He tried to look unrelenting; after all, he was in the right. His damn eyes betrayed him, shifting to the left under her heated gaze. 

Her voice shot back up a couple of octaves. "Some kind of pissing contest? Unbelievable!" She shook her head furiously and threw up her hands. "You know what, forget it! I don't…I can't talk to you right now!" 

She pushed past him, but Trip caught her arm, looking carefully at her face. "Hosh, are you ok?" She looked awful—as mad as he was, he was more concerned for her.

She stared up at him, teeth clenched. "Let…me…go."

Maybe it would be in her best interest to be away from him, he thought. He was sure screwin' things up. He released her arm; she didn't look at him as she left. 

Long after she was gone, he stood where he was, wondering what had gone wrong, and what he should do next.

**

Hoshi made it out of sight of his door before she stopped to fall against the wall. Her heart was pounding like it would beat through her chest and she couldn't catch her breath. She leaned over, head down and hands on her knees. _'Just need to calm down,' _she told herself. _'Men! Pigheaded, stupid…'_ She could have gone on, but it wasn't helping to calm her. She took several deep breaths and tried to recall some meditation techniques that T'Pol had taught her. After a few minutes, her breath slowed and she was able to stand straight. Her head was still throbbing, though. She considered stopping by Sickbay to get something for it, but discarded the idea. She'd been scrutinized enough in the past two days—what she needed was some time to herself. _'And now I'm missing one of my favorite movies.'_ She glanced back in the direction of Trip's quarters. _'Jerk.'_

She started down the hall toward her quarters. She still felt unsteady on her feet but was propelled by sheer anger. Getting on the lift, she pushed the button and leaned back against the wall for support. _Damn him, I can't believe, of all the ignorant, chauvinistic things to do… _

The lift opened onto her floor. She stepped off and walked to her door. Before opening it, she heard a sound down the hall. "Hello?" she called. When she got no response, an overwhelming panic rose up in her belly. She punched her security code into the door but nothing happened. "No! Please open." She could feel hysteria welling up and she began to hit the keys again.

"Hoshi?" She screamed and whirled to find Malcolm standing behind her. 

He jumped back, surprised. 

"Malcolm, don't do that!  Didn't you hear me calling?  Do you always creep up on people?" She slumped against the door behind her. Her head was spinning again. 

"Calm down. I am sorry if I frightened you." He smiled. "At least it was in a lit hallway this time."

She stopped and stared at him for a minute. "You." 

Malcolm waited and, getting no response, said, "Yes?" 

"I missed my favorite movie because of you. You, GOD, you men!  You think that because of some left over Neanderthal gene driving you to be the alpha male, you have the right to pound each other like…like…pieces of meat!  Well guess what?  We women are not impressed. You…you…simpleton!"

She started to continue but Malcolm held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry about your movie," he said, privately wondering what he had to do with it. He continued, "I am embarrassed by my behavior. I was just on my way to talk to Commander Tucker."

Hoshi stopped talking and turned and opened her door. She looked at Malcolm and said tightly, "Tea?"

He nodded his consent and followed her into her quarters.  She got the tea ready and they went back to how they had sat the other night. Neither person said a word for a long time; they just sat in silence. 

"I am concerned about you, Hoshi. You don't seem to be yourself lately." 

Hoshi sipped her tea and finally raised her head to look him in the eye. "Thank you for your concern. It's nice of you to ask but I'm ok." She tried to smile but failed.

Malcolm set down his tea and walked over, sitting down in front of her on the floor. She looked down at him, tears welling up in her eyes. 

He reached up, putting his hand against her cheek. "Don't cry, Hoshi."

A tear ran down her cheek and he brushed it away with his fingers.

She leaned forward, pressing her head against his forehead. He felt so warm and safe. She was never scared if she knew Malcolm was there. She kissed his forehead and he stiffened. 

**

When she kissed him, Malcolm was shocked. Heat rushed to areas that he had been trying to ignore of late. As she watched him he could see something in her eyes that he had never seen before. He brushed his fingertip across her bottom lip. Finally, able to resist no longer, he brought her lips down to his. At first he simply pressed his lips to hers and leaned back to look at her again. Her breathing sped up but she didn't pull away. Leaning in again, this time he looked for entrance with his tongue. She parted her lips and he entered her mouth, tasting her for the first time. He moaned and pressed her back on the bed. They kissed over and over, one not letting the other get far away. Malcolm moved his hands lower, moving her shirt aside and running his hands up the bare skin of her back.

Hoshi sat up abruptly, smacking her head on the top of her bunk. She grabbed her head where it had hit, rubbing the spot. 

"Oh god, oh god, you need to go, Malcolm." 

Malcolm rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor. "I am so sorry, Ensign. Please forgive me."

"Just go, Malcolm." 

He ran a hand through his hair and left the room, heading for his quarters. A conversation with Trip was out of the question at the moment.

"Oh god," Hoshi turned and buried her face in the pillow. _'What's wrong with me? I scream at Trip for not trusting me and a few minutes later I justify everything he's thinking_.'

She lay on her bunk and cried, wondering what kind of person she was becoming, until she finally fell asleep.

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	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 6 

_Hoshi sat at her console working on a difficult language. Captain Archer paced behind her._

_"Ensign, are you finished yet?" _

_"Almost, sir. I just need a few more minutes."_

_Archer walked up behind her, yanking her head back by her hair. _

_"You don't have that much time Ensign." He grinned at her and threw her head forward again. _

_The Captain began to pace again, occasionally smacking his hand down on Hoshi's console. _

_She continued working, flinching each time his fist fell. _

_She heard the swish of the lift doors open and Malcolm stepped out. "Hoshi, hurry. We haven't got much time," Malcolm said._

_She swung her chair around to face him but found herself lying on her bed in her quarters. She stood and opened the door, finding Malcolm once again. "Come on," he said urgently. _

_She stepped out, Malcolm taking her hand. They began to run down the hall, fleeing from an unseen but known force. Hoshi gripped Malcolm's hand tightly._

_"Malcolm, if they find me they'll kill me."_

_"Not if I'm here they won't." He smiled and stopped in front of the mess hall._

_She walked in, peering around the door to find Trip and Ms. Keizu, who had lived next door during Hoshi's childhood. Trip stood up and walked toward her, holding out his hands._

_"Hoshi, hon, ya can't run forever. You know that." _

_She cried and grabbed his arm. "We have to go! If they catch us…"_

_"Your friend is right, Hoshi-chan," Ms. Keizu said kindly. Hoshi looked at her, but T'Pol sat in her place, drinking tea and looking unconcerned._

_Hoshi turned back to Trip and Malcolm. The floor under their feet shuddered. Trip, standing beside her, braced his legs and grabbed her arms. They used each other for balance as the ship shook. _

_Malcolm was at the mess hall door, gesturing for her to follow. Unexpectedly, the room shifted and Hoshi realized it was breaking up, sliding apart as if it had been designed to do so, like puzzle pieces. Malcolm leapt into the still solid corridor. Their eyes met; his face was impassive. Meanwhile, Trip was falling away from her. She lurched forward, desperate to catch his hands. If she caught him, she knew Malcolm could pull them both back inside the ship._

_Instead, she fell face first into open space…_

**

Hoshi cried out, waking herself from the dream. Her quarters were dark; once again she was thankful that her roommate had such an opposite schedule from her. She sat up and turned on the light, holding a hand to her pounding head as she read the clock. Three hours. She had only slept for three hours—she didn't intend to try again that night. Besides, the dreams left her as exhausted as when she didn't sleep. 

One thought occurred to her—Dr. Phlox was likely to be in his quarters at this time of night. She could slip into Sickbay for a headache remedy without the accompanying questions. Her head spun when she stood, but it passed shortly. She headed for Sickbay.

**

The next few days seemed to last forever. Both Trip and Malcolm tried to speak to Hoshi, but she made a point of never being alone when they were near. She refused to answer her door. The one time Malcolm had run into her in the corridor, she quelled his efforts with a single angry glance. 

Jon noticed the tension on his bridge but he was at a loss what to do about it. His crew was performing their jobs properly, but the usual bridge banter was silenced. He and Travis made a few attempts to joke, but they fell flat. Even T'Pol had noticed something was wrong, stopping by his ready room to discuss it with him. After a brief discussion, they had concluded that the best course of action would be to let the situation run its course. At least for the moment.

Malcolm worked furiously at his station, rarely looking up, except for the occasional furtive glance at Hoshi. He brusquely deflected any conversation not related to the armory. 

Trip, for his part, looked as solemn as Jon had seen him. Jon broached the subject at dinner, but Trip shook his head. "I screwed up, Jon," was all he would say. Then he returned his attention to his plate, eating quickly before he headed back to Engineering.

And when Jon leaned over Hoshi's console to speak with her about it, she had started so violently, looking at him with enormous, dark rimmed eyes, that he backed off. If he hadn't known better, he would've said he made her nervous.

Sighing, he moved back to his chair, scanning the room, looking for some clue. Malcolm, T'Pol, Hoshi…his eyes roamed back to the front of the bridge. And settled on Travis. He was studying the back of the helmsman's head when Travis seemed to feel his gaze. The Ensign glanced back over his shoulder. When he met the Captain's eye, he immediately dropped the glance, and swung back to his station. Looking rather guilty. _'Ah-ha.'_

"Travis, I'd like to speak with you in my ready room." The Ensign swung back around slowly.

"Aye sir." He reluctantly followed the Captain off the bridge.

**

A short time later, Malcolm, Hoshi and Trip found themselves crammed into the Captain's ready room. On the way in, Trip had passed Travis—judging by the Ensign's face, this conversation wasn't going to be fun.

Jon studied his crewmembers carefully. Malcolm was making a point of not looking up from a data padd in his lap. Trip was watching Hoshi openly, raw longing on his face. Hoshi looked back at Jon. _'She looks exhausted,'_ he realized. Instantly he felt guilty; in retrospect, Hoshi had been looking a little haggard for days. He'd been so wrapped up in the planning for their upcoming meeting with the Duonian Council that he hadn't noticed. He made a mental note to send her to Phlox for a checkup when the Duonian event was over.

"All right, people. Maybe you know why we're here." 

No answer.

"Fine. Let me spell it out for you. As you know, we had to postpone our trip to Duonia after our run-in with the Obeexuns. We'll be at Duonia in a few hours to hold the talks. The Council is holding a welcoming reception in our honor, tonight." They all nodded. Trip frowned. 

"I called you here because I want to be sure that this…problem between the three of you doesn't become a problem when we're on the planet. I expect all of you to behave professionally and civilly, among your fellow crewmembers as well as with the Duonians. Whatever has to happen to make that possible needs to happen in the next few hours. Am I clear?"

Hoshi stirred. "Aye, sir. The situation is under control; there won't be any problems."

She looked at Malcolm and Trip for confirmation. Malcolm appeared horrified that his behavior had come to the Captain's attention. Trip sat with his arms folded across his chest, practically vibrating with frustration. Both men nodded. "No problem," Trip said loudly. 

"Good. I will see you in the launch bay in four hours." Archer turned away from them. "Dismissed."

Malcolm and Hoshi hurried out of the room. Trip lingered for a moment. Archer looked back at him.

"Trip?"

Trip shook his head. "Nothin', Cap'n. Ne'er mind." He returned to Engineering.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 7 

When Trip entered the launch bay, he was extremely disappointed to see that he and Malcolm were the first ones to arrive, alone for the first time since the fight. Their eyes met and they both turned their heads quickly. The men stood silently for a few minutes, each trying to pretend that the other wasn't there. Malcolm had the advantage; he was perfectly comfortable with long silences. Trip cracked in short order.

"So," Tucker started. Malcolm looked at him expressionlessly. "This little soiree should be interestin'. Cap'n seems pretty excited about it." 

Malcolm didn't reply.

Already on edge, Trip said testily, "Hey! I'm tryin' to be polite here. Would it kill ya to respond in kind, Lieutenant?" he demanded, pointedly emphasizing Malcolm's lesser rank. He liked to make the most of anything that riled the armory officer.

Malcolm's head snapped around. "I have nothing to say, SIR."

"Well…" Trip was interrupted by Hoshi's arrival. The three of them stared at each other. _'Lord, she's beautiful,'_ the men thought in unison.

_'Idiots,'_ Hoshi thought crossly. She resisted an urge to look longingly at the two men. Morons, but she missed them both. She was feeling so…

Archer, T'Pol, and Travis came in a few seconds after her, disrupting her musings. Like the others, they were wearing their dress uniforms. Archer touched Hoshi's shoulder; she jumped about a foot in the air. Everyone looked at her strangely. She said, "Sorry, sir" and looked at the floor.

Archer gestured to the shuttlepod. "Shall we?"

Travis followed his lead into the craft. Trip stepped aside, making a point of taking Hoshi's arm and helping her through the door. Even that physical contact had warmth swirling in the pit of his stomach. He was immensely pleased when her eyes widened and met his quickly. Apparently she wasn't entirely immune to him yet. He grinned to himself and, feeling magnanimous, even turned to help T'Pol in as well. 

He came face-to-face with Malcolm instead. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at the Lieutenant. Malcolm gave him an icy look. While they stared each other down, T'Pol slipped by them, only raising one questioning eyebrow. Malcolm broke the look and stepped into the shuttlepod. Trip watched him, teeth set. "Jackass," he muttered to himself, before following Malcolm and sealing the door behind him.

**

Hours later, Hoshi stood at the edge of the crowd, pretending to be interested in the unusual hors d'oeuvres displayed on the tables. Food made her stomach tremble uncomfortably, but as long as she was eating, no one tried to talk to her. And she was talked out for the night—an unusual feeling, since she usually thrived at these events. She was missing her chance to practice a new language, but she couldn't muster even a little interest.

She viewed the room while pretending to sip from her glass of…she couldn't remember its name, but it was surprisingly refreshing. Especially considering it's odd blackish color. 

The Duonians were an interesting race—humanoid in appearance, except that the hair on their bodies appeared to be the same length all over, reminding Hoshi of peach fuzz. And the smallest Duonian in the room was at least seven feet tall. They moved quickly, in contrast to their large frames. Most of them wore close fitting uniforms in various shades of gray. The plain color of their clothing was another contrast, given the decorations in the room.

The small reception room glittered, literally. The walls were draped with an unusual sky-blue material that caught and refracted the light. Hundreds of tiny rainbows danced in the air. All around her, important Duonian officials mingled, each vying for a chance to talk with the Enterprise crew. T'Pol in particular drew their attention. _'She looks a bit like Scarlett O'Hara,'_ Hoshi mused, '_surrounded by all of her admirers'_. Except that T'Pol was doing her best to deflect their interest.

Tonight, Hoshi was particularly glad for universal translators, which allowed the other crewmembers to easily converse without her help. Over the past hours, she had answered question after question about Earth culture. She was tired, and now she only wanted to blend in with the scenery until they could leave. Maybe she would be able to sleep for a few hours, in preparation for the morning's talks. 

She angled her body so that she could see past the crowd, out the terrace doors to the ocean beyond. It looked much like Earth's oceans—bluish water, with light from the three moons illuminating the waves brightly. Hoshi chanced a look at her comrades. They were each engaged in conversation. Trip was chuckling as he and Travis told some story that required a lot of wild hand gestures. Malcolm's eyes positively glowed as he spoke with the Minister of Defense, his neck bent at an awkward angle to accommodate the Minister's height. And Jon was trying to extract T'Pol from her current situation. No one would notice if Hoshi slipped out to the beach. The breeze might even revive her some.

She hurried outside, moving across the terrace and down the steps to the beach. The sand was a strange aquamarine color, but it felt the same, cool on her feet when she stepped out of her shoes. 

She raised her face to the marine-scented air blowing in, closing her eyes. Big mistake—she was so tired that she swayed. So tired that she didn't hear Malcolm's approach, a rare occurrence with her accelerated hearing.

"Ensign." She didn't move; didn't even open her eyes. "Hoshi." The pleading tone of his voice made her turn her head this time. She remained silent as he came to stand beside her, also looking out over the water.

"Hoshi," he said in low voice, "I have been waiting to apologize again for the other night. I am appalled by my behavior." 

Hoshi waved a hand. Her body felt heavy, like she was moving through water instead of air. Right now, she just wanted to lie down in the sand and go to sleep. Not that it would matter. The dreams would come as soon as she closed her eyes. Still, knowing the Captain and the council members were nearby was all that was keeping her standing. 

"Malcolm, it's all right. I know I've been angry but—it was as much my fault as yours. I probably owe you an apology." Usually so aware of any noise, she was still only half-conscious of the sounds around them. The waves rolling softly onto the beach, the quiet song of some insect, the music drifting out from the terrace, footsteps on the stairs behind them…

Malcolm was still talking, his attention now focused on her face. "No, what happened between us was my fault entirely. If I had kept some modicum of control; if I hadn't, well, kissed you as I did…"

"I could have stopped you. Malcolm…" she turned, placing a hand on his arm and meeting his eyes. Caught in her gaze, Malcolm leaned forward slightly…

A funny sound, close by, caught her attention and they both looked back. Trip, his shoulders hunched as if he had just endured a physical blow. His eyes were filled with disbelief and accusation…and pain. At her side, Malcolm cursed, low under his breath. She literally couldn't move.

"I was right?! I been walkin' aroun' here prayin' that you'd forgive me, and all this time…" Trip advanced on Hoshi, his voice an octave higher than usual. Hoshi's heart beat fast; she couldn't breathe. She just kept hurting them…

Malcolm's hand, planted on Trip's chest, stopped the Commander before he got to Hoshi. "If you have a bone to pick, Commander, I suggest you take it up with me."

"No, Malcolm, it's all right. Trip, I'm…"

Trip's attention was on Malcolm now, and he answered the armory officer as if Hoshi wasn't speaking. 

"I'd be glad to do just that, _friend_," he said sarcastically. He clamped his hand on Malcolm's wrist. "Get your fuckin' hands off me first." 

Malcolm tried to save the situation. "I don't blame you for being angry, Commander. I had no right…" Too late. Hoshi screamed when Trip's fist smashed into Malcolm's face. Malcolm immediately retaliated, knocking Trip onto his back, and landing on top of him, fists of both men swinging.

Suddenly, Hoshi no longer saw Malcolm. An Obeexan female was on Trip, pounding away at him with a deadly looking knife. She knew Trip wasn't strong enough to fight her off. Hoshi took a step towards the battle, but her vision narrowed, and her legs wouldn't support her. She dropped to the ground, landing on her side. The sand was almost comfortable against her face—a strange thought to have at a time like this. Distantly, she heard Travis cry her name; Jon's concerned face appeared in front of her. She wanted to tell him to help Trip—but she saw and heard nothing else.

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	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 8 

Trip and Malcolm waited stubbornly in the corridor outside of Sickbay. The doctor had ordered them out while he examined Hoshi, demanding privacy. It took a direct order from Jon to budge them though. Under the Captain's stern glance, they went just outside the doors, leaving only Phlox and T'Pol with Hoshi. To everyone's surprise, she had asked for T'Pol. They were even more surprised when T'Pol agreed without hesitation. 

The three men paced, each thinking up reasons for why this was his fault. 

_'What in the hell's wrong with me? Fightin' in front of her, yellin' at her like that. God, let her be ok, I'll step aside, I'll do whatever it takes…she's out here cuz of me, preachin' to her about adventure. Didn't even stop to think before I opened my idiot mouth…if anything happens to her, it's my fault."_

_'I'm a blasted fool. I come between my two closest friends on this ship—it's not as though I have so many to spare. All because I can't control myself. Regardless of how I feel, I should have put her well-being first…dammit, this is all my fault.'_

_'I'm her Captain _and_ I'm the reason she's on Enterprise in the first place. I should have noticed something was wrong. This is my fault completely. Well…maybe not _completely_. What the hell were those idiots thinking?'_

Dropping against the wall, Jon watched his pacing officers. Heart-on-his-sleeve Trip versus still-waters-run-deep Malcolm. And both of them crazy about Hoshi, he realized. _'What a mess.' _Thank God the Duonians were so fascinated with human culture—T'Pol reported that they were delighted by the display of human mating rituals. Jon muttered under his breath. At the rate they were going, it would be a wonder if any race didn't consider humans insane by the end of this voyage.

He closed his eyes, remembering the last few hours.

Close enough to the doors to hear when Hoshi screamed, Jon and Travis had moved as one to the edge of the terrace, and down the steps. The Duonians fanned out onto the terrace behind them. As Jon's feet hit the sand, he saw Hoshi weave and fall. Travis cried out, and Jon rushed to her side. He reached her in time to see her eyes flutter and close.

Travis's shout halted the altercation instantaneously. Both officers, covered in blue-green sand, scampered over to Jon and Hoshi. Seeing the astonishment on their faces, Jon had an absurd urge to laugh, a hysterical reaction to the disaster that this night had become.

Hoshi's eyes flickered open. She looked around at the worried faces hovering over her. "Trip!" she gasped, and sat up fast. Trip reached for her, saying "I'm here, baby. What…?" 

When she saw that he was sitting there, fine except for a little dirt, she burst into tears. Trip jerked his hand back guiltily. Hoshi noticed Jon, and sobbed, "Captain, I am so sorry…" She continued to talk, but she was crying so hard that Jon couldn't understand her. He looked at the other men for help; clearly, they couldn't understand her any better than him. He gathered Hoshi against his chest and stood, addressing the men.

"Travis, go to T'Pol and ask her to make our excuses; we're returning to Enterprise. Meet us at the shuttlepod as soon as you can." Travis nodded and jogged away.

"You men," when Jon faced Trip and Malcolm, his eyes were dark, "follow me. Not a word," he said menacingly before either could respond. "Trust me. You want me to cool down before we discuss this incident." He stalked away with Hoshi, speaking to her in a low voice. The sound of her crying drifted out behind him.

Now, back on Enterprise, they waited to hear what was going on. Jon opened his eyes, watching the officers, both still wearing their sand-covered dress uniforms. Regardless of what happened to Hoshi, there was no doubt he would have to take disciplinary action with Malcolm and Trip. Thanks to the Duonian reaction, he could skip formal reprimands. But he was still pissed.

_'Oh yeah. I'm thinking cleaning supplies and double shifts for a long, long time.'_

The Sickbay door opened and Dr. Phlox appeared. Trip and Malcolm rushed him, with Archer on their heels. The doctor allowed them inside, but stopped them before they could reach the curtain that concealed Hoshi and T'Pol. 

"Gentlemen," he began, holding up a hand to restrain the eager officers.

"What's goin' on, doc?" Trip interrupted worriedly.

"Well, Commander, if you will allow me a moment, I will gladly tell you," the doctor said. He turned to address the Captain. "Ensign Sato is suffering from a condition that affects many species, including the Denobulans—I believe you humans call it 'post traumatic stress disorder'. No doubt a result of her experience with the Obeexans.'"

"Of course," Malcolm said to himself, "why didn't I see it before?" All of the men had witnessed variations of the disorder in their careers. And they had completely overlooked it in Hoshi.

"And how is she now?" the Captain asked.

"I gave her a sedative—she very much needed rest. It seems she's been getting by on almost no sleep for weeks. It's a common problem with this disorder; nightmares frequently interrupt normal sleep patterns." 

Malcolm and Trip cast side-glances at each other. 

Archer shifted. "Doctor, what can you do to help Hoshi? Making sure she gets better is our priority—but I also need to know, will this affect her future on Enterprise?" He asked the question that was on all of their minds. 

"I can't make any guarantees, of course. It is primarily a psychological disorder, and much of the recovery depends on the patient. However, the Ensign is a very determined young woman, and I do have certain treatments at my disposal." Trip and Malcolm both shuddered; the doctor's more creative cures were infamous, and they had suffered more than their share of them.

"Furthermore, Subcommander T'Pol has already done much to calm the Ensign. She intends to continue teaching Ensign Sato Vulcan meditation techniques, which should have a significant affect on her recovery. I see no reason why the Ensign should not continue at her post, after a bit of time off for rest." Trip's shoulders relaxed and Archer sighed in relief. "If she so chooses," Phlox finished, driving tension back into all of them.

"Can we see her?" Malcolm asked.

"Tomorrow, perhaps. When she feels ready."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 9 

Hoshi walked toward the Captain's mess, happy to have been invited. She rang the chime and waited for him to answer. Instead he opened the door.

"Good evening, Ensign. You ready to eat?" He smiled and she returned it.

"Yes sir, I'm famished."

When she entered the room she was not surprised to find T'pol there. 

"Good evening, T'Pol." T'Pol nodded in greeting as they sat down at the table. 

As they were served, Hoshi looked over at the Sub Commander. She had been very helpful these past few weeks—a friend, really. Every other evening Hoshi would join T'Pol in her quarters to practice meditating. The mediation had greatly reduced her panic attacks and seemed to help relieve her of the dreams. For the first time in weeks she was starting to feel like her old self.

Jon made chit chat during dinner. A few times he made Hoshi laugh, which was something she hadn't been doing lately. T'Pol even joined in the conversation. Hoshi really enjoyed herself and was sorry when it ended. After dinner she made her way back to her quarters to meditate and prepare for bed. She laid her head back on her pillow and drifted off.

**

_Hoshi sat in her mother's kitchen, reading a book she had loved as a child. She stretched and put the book down, going outside to the back yard. She walked to the swing hanging from a tree and sat down. She felt happy._

_"Hello Hoshi." She turned and found Viren standing behind her. She screamed and threw herself off the swing and began to run. He followed close behind. Her lungs were gasping for air and she stumbled several times. She finally tripped and hit the ground. She jerked around to face him. He laughed maliciously and moved to grab her. _

_Hoshi was suddenly filled with a sense of peace. She held up her hands and said, "No. I'm not doing this anymore." She rose and walked up to him, putting their faces nose to nose. She stuck out her hands and shoved, yelling "You do not scare me anymore. I was enjoying a perfectly good dream until you came along. Well, I'm going back to it. NOW."_

_She found herself on the swing again, a soft breeze blowing around her. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the rope, and contentment washed over her. She felt almost complete again._

_"Hoshi."_

_She looked up. The only missing piece was standing in front of her._

_He smiled, and she smiled back, holding out her hand to him._

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	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 10 

Hoshi stepped into the armory the next morning. She didn't see anyone so she called out "Hello?"

A surprised Malcolm stepped out from behind a console. He was covered in grease and his hair was sticking out in all directions. There were parts strewn all over the floor.

"Hello, Hoshi." He moved around front, walking toward her.

"Hi. Do you have a minute?"

Malcolm gestured around him and said, "Do I look busy to you?" Hoshi looked around in confusion.

"Why are you working on this?" she asked.

He looked embarrassed and coughed. "Normally I would call Commander Tucker but he and I..."

"Are not getting along because of me," she said, looking morose. "You know, there's nothing that remarkable about me."

Malcolm walked back over to the console, staring at it. Without looking at her, he said, "I beg to differ, Hoshi."

Hoshi blushed and turned her back to him. She looked down at the floor and then raised her head. "I love him."

Malcolm was quiet for a few minutes. He said, "I know."

She finally turned back toward him but he was still facing the console.

He slowly turned around and gave her a sad smile. "Well Ensign, I guess I will see you tomorrow at 1500 hours for our defense training."

Hoshi walked out the door.

Malcolm looked at all the console pieces lying about. "Damn, what a mess this is." He bent down and began working again.

**

Surrounded on all sides by mechanical parts, Trip bent over the desk in his quarters, completely entranced in his work. Although he didn't really hear it, soft jazz, his favorite working music, played in the background. Trip spent most evenings in his room lately, buried in engine schematics. With parts of an engine in his hands, he didn't worry about Hoshi. 

The two of them had barely spoken since Duonia. She was recovering and he was keeping his distance, unsure of what to say to her. Every time he did try, her new watchdog Jon miraculously appeared and sent him packing. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Malcolm wasn't getting any closer than he was.

Tonight, Trip's door sounded.

"Come," he yelled, without looking up. 

The door slid open and Hoshi, dressed in her uniform, stepped through. "What's up?" Trip said, glancing up. He did a double take and scrambled to his feet, kicking aside some blueprints in his way.

"Hey," he said nervously. He was having a hard time finding a good place for his hands. "How're ya doin'?"

"Fine," Hoshi answered, equally nervous. She solved her hand problem by tucking them behind her back. "You know…much better. I go back to regular duty tomorrow."

"Good. I mean, that's great. I…we were pretty worried about ya for a while there."

"I know. Actually, that's why I came to talk to you. I owe you an explanation for everything I put you through…you know." His eyes darkened; they were both thinking of Malcolm. She half expected Trip to stop her right there, but he didn't, so she forged ahead.

"What happened with Malcolm… I'm sorry, Trip. I've been so lost." He held her eyes, but she couldn't read his expression. "I was so afraid all of the time. And I didn't want anyone to know, because I already have such a reputation as a weakling." Trip opened his mouth then, but she held up a hand, making an ironic face. "Anyway, Malcolm…he makes me feel protected. He's so vigilant; always ready to defend others, especially the people he cares about."

"Like you," Trip interjected dryly.

She nodded. "Yes, like me. And you," she added pointedly. Trip glanced away and she continued. "But when I'm with you, it's different." He looked back at her; she made a frustrated sound at the expression in his eyes. "This is coming out all wrong."

Trip turned slightly away, running his fingers through his hair, his anxiety further revealed by the increasing volume of his voice. "No, I think you're doin' all right. This is the part where I step aside, tell you I'll always be your friend, right?" His faced her again, eyes burning. "Well, screw that." Hoshi started in surprise at the anger in his voice. "I'm _not_ just steppin' aside, playin' the hero. I had you first! And_ I love you_. So I am not gonna make this easy for you, Sato!" Almost shouting, he punctuated every word with his hands.

A brilliant smile spread over Hoshi's face, catching Trip off guard. He eyed her, confused. 

Hoshi cleared the space between them with one leap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He instinctively closed his arms around her, catching her tight against him. 

"What I was going to say…" Hoshi planted a quick kiss on his mouth and smiled up at him, "is that you make me want to be strong. You look at me and it's like you see _me_, not a girl who needs protection—but a woman who can take care of herself. And when I'm with you, I see it too." She reached up, kissing him again. 

For a moment, Trip's face was slack. Then his arms tightened around her. He deepened the kiss, smiling inwardly. The scent of sandalwood, of shampoo, of Hoshi, wrapped around him. 

She pulled back a little. "And I love you." 

Trip gave her a 1000-watt smile. "Glad to see you've finally come to your senses, woman." She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Now…" He lowered his head and kissed her, nipping lightly at each lip. His lips slipped across her cheek and down her neck, settling briefly, and then moving back to her mouth. His hands traveled across her back and down to her hips, pressing her against him. Their breath came in gasps and sighs.

Trip leaned back slightly. She opened her eyes and saw the question in his. For an answer she smiled back, and unzipped the front of his uniform, peeling it back from his shoulders to rest at his waist. Trip watched her hands, and looked back up to meet her gaze. His eyes crinkled with humor. "Thank God," he said. 

Hoshi burst into laughter and he swept her back into his arms, preparing to dump her onto his bunk. Halfway down he caught her, holding her with one arm while he pushed mechanical parts off the bed and onto the floor. He grinned apologetically and Hoshi laughed again, the laugh ending on a gasp as he dropped her onto the bed beneath him. He stretched out beside her, propped on one arm. His hand trailed up her arm, caressing her cheek briefly. He was still smiling, but his eyes were serious. 

"I do love you, Hosh. I'm glad you're here."

Hoshi smiled up at him. "Get used to it, Commander," she said, twining her hands in his hair and pulling him back to the business at hand.

***

One chapter to go…


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement is intended. Just borrowing them for recreational purposes!

Chapter 11 

Trip stirred in his sleep and woke. For a moment he was disoriented—what was that funny sound? Feeling the warmth of bare skin at his back, and the weight of a small arm around his waist, he smiled. _'So, Hoshi snores, huh?'_ He grinned to himself, thinking of the fun he was going to have with that information. Not to mention the fun he'd have making up with her afterwards.

He stayed still in the dark, content to hear her breathing behind him, relishing the newness of having her in his bed. Definitely something he could get used to. 

His stomach rumbled lightly, reminding him that he'd skipped dinner. He squinted at the clock. Four hours until his shift started. Plenty of time to get a snack, and then return to bed to wake Hoshi…properly.

He slipped out of bed, moving gingerly so as not to wake her. Not that it mattered; she was dead to the world. He smiled and brushed his hand over her hair before grabbing for a pair of pants and a T-shirt. Quietly, he opened his door and headed down the hall, padding in bare feet.

**

A few minutes later, he entered the mess hall, grateful to find it empty. He walked through the darkened room to the food dispensers. Grabbing a cup of coffee, he was looking for pastries when he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and yelped, splashing coffee over his hand. "Man, for cripe's sake, Malcolm, ya scared the bejeesus outta me. What the hell are you doin'?

Malcolm sat quietly in a dark corner, watching him. His hand rested around a glass of amber liquid on the table in front of him. Seeing him like that, Trip felt a twinge of guilt.

"Good evening, Commander. Although I suppose good morning would be more appropriate," Malcolm said flatly, sipping from his drink.

"Malcolm, what are ya doin' in here?"

To his surprise, Malcolm was blunt. "Hoshi came to see me today."

"Oh."

"I take it she's already spoken with you about her decision." Trip didn't answer, and Malcolm smiled sardonically. He raised his glass in a toast. "Well, congratulations, Commander. I think we can honestly say the best man won."

"Aw, now hold on. It's not a question of who's the better man, you know that." As much as the guy had bugged him recently, Trip couldn't stand to see anyone in pain. He walked over and took the seat across from Malcolm. "Hoshi and me, we just…I guess it was just meant to be, is all." Malcolm winced. "There's somebody out there for you, ya just gotta be patient. Hell, have a little fun while you're waitin'."

Malcolm didn't answer, and Trip grinned. "Although, I gotta admit, ya gave me a run for my money." He could afford to be generous, he decided, seeing that he'd already won.

Malcolm stared at him for a moment. A soft chuckle started deep in his throat, and he gave Trip a half-smile, gesturing to the bottle. "Care to join me, Trip?"

"Don't mind if I do," Trip replied. He grabbed a cup from the dispenser and returned to his chair, pouring a glassful from the half-empty bottle on the table. He took a huge gulp, and sat the glass back down, making a face. 

"Malcolm."

"Yes?"

"This is tea." 

"Well, yes. I am on duty today. What did you expect it to be?"

Trip laughed out loud at Malcolm's puzzled expression. He clapped Malcolm on the shoulder and sat back. "It's good to know some things never change."

Malcolm grinned. "You know, you've been missing your training sessions. We have one set for tomorrow; are you planning to be there?"

"Well…"

"Because from what I've seen, you need all of the help you can get."

"What?! Buddy, you're delusional. I oughta be givin' you lessons."

"Perhaps, if you consider sucker punches a fundamental part of self-defense. I think you're forgetting who came out of our scraps the worse for the wear, my friend."

They continued like that—talking, laughing and insulting each other—for almost thirty minutes, both men relieved to be putting their recent tension behind them.

Suddenly, Trip gasped and jumped to his feet. "Oh shit, what time is it?" He glanced at the clock and swore again. "Damn." He hurried over to the dispensers, opening doors. "I gotta grab some food and get back to…" He stopped short, casting a guilty look over his shoulder. Malcolm turned his head to look out the window.

"Malcolm…"

Malcolm faced him again. "Trip, I want you to know I consider you a friend. And I don't take that lightly." He looked at his friend somberly. "But I also feel I must warn you—don't break her heart. Because if you do, I _will_ be there to pick up the pieces."

The room was silent, the lighthearted mood of before now broken. Before either man could speak again, the mess hall door slid open. T'Pol entered the room, stopping short when she saw them. "Good morning, Commander. Lieutenant."

"Subcommander," Malcolm nodded, sitting up straighter. 

Trip turned his attention to T'Pol. "Mornin', T'Pol." He watched her collect tea, reminding him of his task. He suddenly realized he had no idea what Hoshi would choose—what had he seen her eat in the morning? He poked through the fruit, trying to remember.

Meanwhile, T'Pol started to take her leave. She paused and turned back to Malcolm.

"Lieutenant." Malcolm looked at her expectantly. "The training plan you designed for the crew was quite…efficient." Raving praise coming from a Vulcan. "However, I do have some suggestions I wish to discuss with you. Are you available to meet me for a meal this evening?"

"Ah, um, yes. Yes, of course, Subcommander. Dinner would be fine."

"Fine. I will see you at 1900 hours." She left, leaving two open-mouthed Starfleet officers in her wake.

The second the door closed, Trip said, "Did she…did I just hear what I think I heard?"

Malcolm shook himself. "She only wants to discuss defense training. Don't read too much into it, Trip."

Trip walked over to his table, dropping a plate of Danish if front of him. "Yeah. Well, just in case, you better eat somethin'. It ain't the rabbit food you're used to, but you might need the extra calories."

Malcolm snorted, and Trip winked, walking towards the door while trying to balance a mountainous plate of food and two coffees. When the Commander reached the door, he turned back.

"Hey Malcolm…about tonight? Be afraid. Be very afraid." He laughed and ducked out the door, just avoiding the roll that Malcolm hurtled after him.

Alone again, Malcolm sat back in his seat. A little grin crept across his face as he contemplated the Danish. _'Hmm.'_ He reached over and picked up a pineapple pastry, grinning as he bit into it.

_'Just in case.'_

***

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